


You'll Never Be Mine

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character spelled Marlow, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, NoHate Awareness Week, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Smut, also omg lemme just hide in shame thanks, porn - at least the end of it - is a little glossed over, starts with smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marlow isn't sure where they lie aside from the sex part, and he doesn't know how Hitch feels about him. What he does know, though, is that it isn't how he feels about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Never Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [c0cunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/gifts).



> So, [Marshcoco](http://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt) and I have been talking AUs and headcanons and all that stuff and recently... we both reawakened our love for Hilow/Hitchlow.
> 
> Then of course, upon finding that this ship only has 16 works (17 now), we decided to write some fic for it.
> 
> I originally tried to write fluff, I swear. But I got stuck and started imaging what it would be like for Hitch to just be leaning over Marlow with those seductive eyes of hers.
> 
> [Here is where](https://listenonrepeat.com/?v=QSGeILK3tLU#Lost_Kitten_-_Metric_\(Lyrics\)) the title is taken from and essentially all I listened to when writing this.
> 
> **It has been brought to my attention that this might come off across as kind of dubious on the area of consent. I didn't mean for it to seem that way and I assure that in this they both want this. The feelings Marlow is having over having sex with Hitch, who he feels something for and doesn't know if she returns them, probably make it seem like he isn't as interested in it, but I didn't write it thinking that it would come across as more "I don't want to do this" than just a little conflicted. Just a heads up for those who this would bother.

She didn’t kiss him.

 

At least, not on the mouth. Her lips were all over his skin; his neck, his nose, his cheeks, his fingers. Her teeth drug along the dips in his body, tongue following their path soon after before it trailed up to circle his ear, small, sharp nose brushing the shorter ends of his hair. At some point she had probably sucked too hard on a patch of skin at the base of his neck, but he had been busy arching up at the feeling, fingers digging into the bedding underneath him, too busy to scold her for attempting to leave a mark.

 

He wouldn’t put it past her. She ignored his preferences on many things and if it didn’t suit her, she would substitute something with her own rules. Him not wanting hickeys likely wouldn’t be any different.

 

And yet, even just the sight of her still excited him, despite that.

 

Was he into rulebreakers? Was that it? He never really thought about it much before…

 

“Marlow,” her voice interrupted his thoughts, immediately smoothing out his wrinkled brow as he looked up at her and her somehow not-yet-tousled hair. It was still as messy as ever, but he could tell the difference between her ordinary look and the one that came right after sex. “You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?” Her voice was tinged with a slight annoyance, even if she didn’t seem to be _too_ mad at him.

 

He nodded, not needing to use words when she was staring at him and waiting for his response, and _definitely_ not needing the teasing she would give him if she heard how breathless she never ceased to make him; especially in moments like this. She would use it against him, in every way she could, for no other reason than just for her entertainment.

 

Marlow assumed that it was the reason that she looked happiest when poking at him that it filled affectionate butterflies in his gut.

 

“Well, stop it,” she told him, still not moving as she stared down at him, “I want your mind right here, on me, and if you can’t do that I don’t want your mind on anything at all.”

 

He could’ve told her that his mind _was_ on her, on his attraction to her, something he knew she would enjoy hearing, especially from his honest lips, but was surprised by the sharp moan that left him instead, when her tongue flicked against his nipple.

 

When they found out that his were more sensitive than her own, it was a field day for her, and she often used them to shut him up. It was his cue to file his comment away, something to tell her later, when she would still appreciate it, but wouldn’t be bothered by him being distracted. He liked to think that she deserved all his thoughts, even when anyone else would disagree. Though, he supposed, they didn’t see her like he did.

 

Someone strong; strong enough to keep his wrists held against the bed with only her own. Someone brave; who went through the motions with a smirk on her face, even when she was close to breaking down. Someone smart; who countered his arguments with her own and noticed the easiest ways to rile him up or stir the shit pot quick enough to be impressive. Someone funny; who, even if finding the most amusement in his misfortune, would often have him smiling into a fist at a certain comment directed to someone else. Someone loyal; who couldn’t stand to see him attempt to throw himself away for a cause, who came back for him even when it benefitted her least of all. Someone who was his best friend; and used it against him in the best way possible.

 

Or, the best way possible with _her_ when it came down to it. He could think of a million different ways that would’ve been better, but they were things she wouldn’t do and he knew that.

 

“God, Marlow, is my mouth just not enough for you today?” She asked when she noticed how hard he had jerked - more in shock than pleasure - when she had pressed her teeth into his other nipple. “Do I need to tie your hands to the headboard and use my hands, too?”

 

“No - sorry,” he swallowed and ignored the way she watched him, with those olive green eyes that reminded him of a sly cat’s. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

 

Rolling her eyes, she sat up on his waist, hands still keeping him pinned down easily as she rolled her head to the side, popping her neck. “I _know_. I kind of noticed. That’s why we’re doing this.”

 

He knew better than to say the reason was different than that, to say that he had other reasons for her to be sitting on top of him, in her long and loose skirt, with the top buttons of her blouse unbuttoned enough to give him a nice view of her bra. Usually, he didn’t have much of a filter between his thoughts and his words, but he knew when to learn from his mistakes and not make them twice. Especially not with Hitch.

 

Continuing to watch him for a minute, Hitch looked as if she was deep in thought about something. She never shared what she was thinking unless it didn’t hold much of a weight to her, but if it was important and something he ached to hear (and she knew he did), she kept it locked in her head and unreadable eyes. Finally, she tapped her thumbs against his arm and raised her eyebrows as she asked him, “Do you think you can keep these right here this time?”

 

He nodded, swallowing thickly once again. Last time he had lost his control and he had regretted it when she had pulled back at the last second, scampering off of him and grabbing for her clothes, telling him that she was done. He hadn’t asked what went wrong because he knew she wouldn’t tell him, and that ate at him until she offered another try, just a short while earlier. At the time, he had thought he had declined, but having managed to find himself in his bed, with her straddling him, proved otherwise.

 

“Good.” After that, she slid her palms up his arms and onto his shoulders, where more pressure was added, as to massage him as they moved down over his chest and abdomen. Her touch caught his breath, leaving it stuck in his throat as he watched her look down at him, gaze turning from something focused to something more mischievous.

 

It lost everything sensual the second Hitch realized he was paying attention to her face, as if to prove that there was nothing but simple lust in their situation. Hooding her eyes, she ducked her head just a little to make them seem hidden further under her lashes as she slipped her fingers even further downward, along the v of his hips, and barely delving past his waistline. Though he had started biting his lip to hold back any noises when she had given him that look, Marlow still found himself letting out a throaty groan as her fingers edged on, encouraged by his incapability to keep himself quiet.

 

They slid back out, her thumb pushing at his button as if weakly trying to unbutton it. He made no move to stop her, not even when she used two fingers to “walk” along his zipper, one of them spinning around his tent, slowly gliding up and down his tent.

 

Hitch was a tease, but it would be over if he moved, so he took her torture.

 

Shifting back just a little onto his thighs, Hitch’s smirk widened as she leaned forward just a little, free hand moving to pop open another one of her buttons for reaching to settle against his cheek. Of course, when he turned into her palm, wet pants heavy against her soft skin, her smirk turned nastier, showing more teeth than lip.

 

That was his only warning.

 

The next second she was pressing the heel of her hand into him and rubbing in lazy circles, making him shake with a gasp of breath, legs opening just a little wider. His eyes squeezed shut and he twisted fully into her hand, resisting the urge to leave a kiss for her. She didn’t really give him the option, however, when she then trailed upwards to string her fingers through his sweaty hair and push it back, before leaning forward, to nuzzle against the underside of his undercut again, like before. Her hand kept at its pace, falling just a little further down to settle into the space his thighs had moved for, her own legs keeping him steeled against the bed and not bucking into her palm.

 

“I love your undercut,” she muttered into the shaved part of his head, before giving it a quick peck, her hand moving along the other side and brushing it the wrong way to feel the way it would prickle up. “The top part’s a bit dorky, but this just…” she trailed off with a needy hum.

 

He didn’t say anything in return and let her nudge at him gently, almost affectionately. It was easy to not put much thought into her, “You look cute like this,” with the way he was barely keeping himself from moving in response to her hands and touches. It was hard enough to breathe as it was, with her hand in his hair, petting him like this was something different, not just her admiring his hair, not just a (not so quick) fuck to let out some steam or whatever bull shit reason she’d spew to ignore what it almost was for him.

 

It was easy until her hand stopped and her other one came down, fiddling with his button (she always seemed to have trouble with those, it seemed, which was probably why she barely ever wore jeans), his eyes warily opening when he heard her whisper, likely with a grin, “We should get these off… It’ll be much more fun, this way.”

 

He made a disgruntled noise of disagreement and she looked up at him rather than his pants, pausing. She narrowed her eyes in that way that was more curious than vexed at being stopped and he leaned his head back, mostly just so he didn’t have to see that look from her. “Don’t really want to…” his answer fell off and he looked back at her, relieved to see she wasn’t really confused anymore, a look of understanding passing through her gaze, before turning to the one that reminded him of a lioness who knew she had her prey cornered.

 

He’d much rather take this moment of “just orgasms and no feelings” when she gave him looks that sent more of a rush through his spine rather than stopping his heart for a matter of seconds.

 

Humming, she nodded, “Alright, but we should get these,” and reached, slowly, but without hesitance, into his pants again to snap his boxers, “Off, at least.  It’ll feel much better this way, I promise.”

 

He knew it would, so when she tugged at his zipper, he lifted his hips up to help her, making good on his _own_ promise of not moving his hands. Once his jeans were thrown somewhere to the floor and she was back on top of him again, further up than just his mid thighs, her gaze flicked to look at him, hands using his stomach to help steady herself. She could’ve just reclaimed a hold on his wrists, but instead, she held his torso as she stared down at him and twitched her hips forward and back, pushing just a little pressure downwards.

 

It was a small exercise of trust, but it still, combined with her movement, left him gasping as his knuckles turned white against the sheets.

 

Last time, they had less between them, and they were… closer, to a degree. Her head had been thrown back and she had reached down between her legs to circle her thumb around a place that he would have attempted to put pressure if she hadn’t ignored his offer. It had been wordless, excluding the moans of their names, or simple commands to go _faster_ or _harder_ , or even _god you’re just_ -

 

Of course, Hitch surprised him by instead of staying quiet, leaned down, to nose against his ear, close enough he could smell the strawberry shampoo in her hair, and murmur, “ _Fuck_ , Marlow, you’re so _thick._ ”

 

A cracked sound of something caught between surprise and pleasure came from him at that, but she didn’t stop.

 

“You feel so good against my clit,” she told him, moaning obscenely into his ear when he bucked at her statement, obviously for his benefit. It didn’t even matter; it was _working_. “Wanna just stay like this, just you grinding against me.”

 

He could feel shocks all the way from his legs to his throat, and his feet kept jerking, wanting to just sit up and pull her into his lap, or at least wrap his legs around her body, but he kept still, breath erratically increasing in pace in response to her words, that only seemed to get dirtier and filthier as they continued to rub up against each other.

 

It shouldn’t have surprised him that it was Hitch who was using the dirty talk in bed, talking in just the way she knew would push him faster to the edge, get him closer to completion.

 

“Wish you’d let yourself in-inside me, I feel so _empty_.” Those were the final words that ended up getting him there, bringing him where she wanted him.

 

And that time, she wasn’t fast enough to stop him or his arms in time.

 

They jerked up, threading into the hair that dangled above him, and pulled her into a kiss, something she had been neglecting to give him the whole time, as his leg twisted around her and pulled her even harder against him. He finished, soaking his boxers and likely her already wet and ruined panties, with a loud, choked groan of her name, right against her lips, just as he wanted.

 

If only she knew how selfish she made him feel at times, times when it was the worst possible time for him to be. She’d get a real kick out of that.

 

She waited long enough for him to come down from his high at least before she jerked away and scooted back, still sitting on his legs, panting down at him, expression not angry, but not pleased; guarded. As she started to even out her breathing, still staring at him, it clicked that she was waiting for him to say something before she said anything of her own.

 

“Hitch, I-” Marlow started, hands fallen and on his sides on the bed.

 

Interrupting, she slid a thigh between his own and moved to bracket one of them, before actually sitting on it. “It doesn’t matter. Can I keep going?”

 

Finding that he didn’t really have anything to say, he only nodded, and watched as she slowly started to rock her damp panties over his naked leg, eyes fluttering closed when he bent it at an angle that would help her easily stimulate her clitoris.

 

He bit his lip as he watched, inhaling deeply at the furrow of her concentrated eyebrows, and the way she would lean at a probably uncomfortable angle to hit it just the right way. Small, strangled noises fell from her mouth occasionally and he started to sit up, which made her open her eyes, even if she didn’t stop moving.

 

“Do you want me-” _to help you?_

 

She shook her head and closed her eyes again, teeth digging into her bottom lip harshly - something that he couldn’t help but notice was just a little redder than usual and swollen. “Your leg is enough.”

 

* * *

 

His bed was empty just as he expected it to be. His neck, like he didn’t, was not.

 

Sighing, Marlow reached for his tube of concealer, but stopped, as he pressed two fingers into the bruise, caressing it softly. A gift from Hitch, even if just to mostly piss him off, was what it was at its very core, and he was going to be ignoring that to cover it up so no one would know.

 

Aside from Hitch, that was. (And himself, too.) However, she would tease him about it anyway. It was low enough that he could wear a collared shirt and it would be hidden until she, as his best friend, noticed it and mentioned about how he must have “gotten lucky last night” for a mark that dark. Still, if he covered it up, she would just be sending him proud, sinister smirks all day as she glanced at his neck, silently reminding him that it was _her_ that gave him that.

  
He told himself it was more on impulse than cowardice that had him covering it up in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> ... was it obvious that this is only my second time writing porn, and my first time writing f/m?
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> This is [@c0cunt's tumblr](https://c0cunt.tumblr.com). Here is my [snk one](https://overmyfreckledbody.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thank you for reading! Since you made it this far and if want to, it would be really cool if you left a kudos/comment!
> 
> The rival title would have been "Tell Me One Thing You'd Never Do"


End file.
